altar sits encased in memorial. And the hourglass holding red sand was destroyed.
“We do not celebrate today,” Salazar goes on. He’s not wearing traditional Dogio black, red, and gold, but a perfectly tailored burgundy suit. “This day, on the Island of Sol and under the Sun and Moon, we honor truth. We honor those who died here unjustly and those who were brutally taken and used as pawns to spread lies and defend a war.” He bows his head as if praying silently to himself, but it’s not for show. Salazar is the most genuine person to ever speak in this Coliseum. And he will be the last. Never again will there be one rule over this island.
The people of Bellona agreed it would be best to form a council of leaders—several people representing all factions on the island. Basso, Dogio, Imperi, Night, workers, fishers, farmers … Each voice is heard. We know we won’t agree on everything—far from it—but we all want the same thing: a unified and peaceful Bellona.
Salazar turns and faces the arched double doors where Raevald will enter. Dorian and an Imperi officer stand guard.
They’re more similar in their dress—both wear black but the Imperi officer wears his red sash; Dorian dons the silver moon pin on his collar, his hooded jacket. The point isn’t to erase who we were, but to respect our united future.
Salazar then motions toward the doors as Dorian and the officer each take hold of the handles. He speaks loud and clear. “For those who can no longer speak their truth, who had no say in their fate—he pauses a beat as the wind whips and whistles through the Coliseum—“justice is served.”
The doors swing open, and for the briefest moment Dorian’s and my eyes meet.
I tilt my head, smile in recognition. In appreciation.
He gives a very slight nod, but I know it’s for me.
Standing tall, Raevald enters the arena.
No guards drag him to the center.
He walks freely toward the raft that will carry him out to the Great Sea.
The day the council handed down his punishment, Raevald was allowed to speak. Grander than ever, showing no remorse, zero penance, he only said this, “I accept my punishment. The people of Bellona have spoken, and so the Sun has willed it.” Then he looked straight at me. “This will be my final honor as High Regent.”
Raevald steps onto the raft.
He searches the crowd until his eyes set on Nico and me.
I’m taken back to my real grandfather’s own unjust Offering and my chest aches, but I don’t look away. I squeeze Nico’s hand more tightly and watch Raevald as he drifts down the canal and through the arch and out to the Great Sea.
And then he’s gone.
There is no celebration.
No special food or music or jubilation.
Instead, the families of those lost make their way to the small canal that runs through the arena and connects to the sea.
Each family sets a lit lantern into the water.
As the lanterns are carried out by the current, the sun has set and is nothing but a fiery line against the dark-blue horizon as countless lights twinkle and bob like stars in the sky.
For the first time vesper bells don’t ring.
There is nothing to fear after dark.
EPILOGUE
VEDA
Tap-tap-tap.
Right on time. Like the turn of the hourglass. Reliable as the Sun.
The past few weeks may have changed us, the world around us might have caught on fire, crumbled into the Great Sea. War, blood, explosions, and brushes with Death himself might have tipped our realities on edge.
But there’s been one constant.
One thing always bigger than all of the chaos coming down around us.
That, while we’re strong on our own, we’re much stronger together.
Tap-tap-tap.
Also, despite everything, he still prefers to tap on my window to get inside my house. Which is practically his house too since he spends more time here than he does at his own.
I push aside the curtains and throw open the window.
Nico stands there, raking his fingers through that dark, wavy hair of his. Dimple spectacularly deep, punctuating my favorite smile.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.”
And we just stare at each other. I crouch down onto my knees before the window, rest my arms on the sill.
Behind him, under a lamp in the street, a couple joint Night-Imperi guards stand watch. They’re stationed all over the island, but only to keep the peace, never to create conflict.
Nico takes a step forward, leans down so we’re face to face.
This is the strange little routine we’ve adopted.
“I have a door,